Find a Way
by BrittWitt16
Summary: Life finds a way. And as long as humans are a part of life, they're going to justify the existence of Jurassic World. Despite how much she hates it, Stephanie Engel feels that it's her responsibility to find a way to make the park safe. At least, as safe as an island full of dinosaurs can be. But no one warned her about the raptors. And no one warned her about Owen Grady.
1. Chapter 1

_The world has always been full of terrible, frightening things. Since the beginning of time, Earth has existed as a kill or be killed environment—a chaotic food chain with little to no reason in its operation. For centuries, man has sat at the top of that food chain. His ego has been fed on the sight of the other creatures below him, and it has grown and mutated into something else entirely. Man no longer has an ego. He has a god complex. He destroys and changes the world around him as he sees fit—war, genocide, deforestation—all to feel the power of his position, to remind himself that he can do these things simply because he can._

 _We have reached a point in history where man does more than simply destroy. He creates. And that is infinitely worse._

 _Beings at the top of society's ladder of survival have no respect for life and death. They cannot value something that they have never questioned their possession of, or had to fight to keep. They do not appreciate death's completeness or understand life's fragility. They cannot comprehend the desperation with which most beings cling to life, or that life clings to beings in return. Life can be a treasure, truly. But it can also be a parasite, conniving and resilient, capable of impossible feats to escape its termination._

 _Man does not understand the powers that he is meddling with in his actions. He proclaims that it is for the good of discovery, the good of the people. The only discoveries he has made have been for his own personal gain, and the destruction of everything he imagines to be under his control—the destruction of the human race._

 _The scientists of the company InGen have sworn me to secrecy regarding their experiments. But matters of this size are not a matter of law. They are not a matter of science. They are a matter of right and wrong, of common sense, and knowledge of these events cannot be kept from the people. I feel that it is my responsibility to share this information with the public, to correct the wrongs that have been done, and to bring this company and those like it to a stop before they can lead our world into complete chaos._

 _It is only a matter of time until man's creations rise to take control of them. Life should not be toyed with. Life will find a way._

 _-Ian Malcom_

 _Dedicated to the survivors of Isla Nublar, and to my daughters. You are my queens, my goddesses, my inspiration. I want to make sure the world you inherit is the safe one._

"Please tell me you're not reading that for the eighty fourth time."

Stephanie looked up from the book she was holding in her hands, lounging in an armchair by the window. She grinned at her mother, running a ringer down the crease in the heavily dog-eared page. "I'm not reading this for the eighty fourth time. Probably eighty fifth."

"You're hilarious," she sighed, smoothing out her blazer. "It's all so pretentious. It's up to him to stop mankind, as if he's not a part of it. For someone condemning the god complex, he's certainly close to having one."

"Can you blame him? He survives a lethal vacation, comes back, and no one believed him when he started talking about dinosaurs. He felt alone. And he was right, wasn't he?"

Her mother shot her a sharp look, straightening her bracelets and jumping subjects. "Is all your stuff downstairs? Are you sure you don't need—…?"

"To take anything out of the boxes, yes I am sure. We've been through the boxes eight times, Mom. Suitcases are immediate essentials, boxes property to be shipped. You can stop checking."

"I just want to make sure you didn't forget anything."

"It's an island, not the middle of the desert, Mom. I'm pretty sure they'll be a convenience store if I forget some toothpaste."

"Did you check—…?"

"Yes, I remembered the toothpaste. Mom, you know I've got this. Why are you so wound up?"

Her mother pursed her lips, avoiding her gaze by stepping into the hall. Judging by the jangling of her bracelets, she was fixing her hair in the mirror over the side table. "Okay, not your flight's in five hours, but I want to leave as soon as possible. The security for these tropical places is ridiculous, and I want to get lunch before you leave."

"Is this because Dad's coming?"

The jangling paused, then picked up with a renewed vigor. "He just had to insist that he come to the airport with us. He said he was going to be here at nine, and knowing your father, that means he probably won't be here until—…"

 _Ding dong._

Stephanie's face split into a wide grin as her mother muttered a curse. "Five minutes early. You were saying?"

"Could you get that, Steph? I'm going to grab the last suitcase from your room."

Her heels clicked away up the stairs, and Stephanie repressed a snort. Her mother was probably the most capable woman she knew, and she wasn't sure whether to be amused or concerned by her nerves. Her parents didn't exactly get along, but she was sure it was mostly out of stubbornness and determination not to. They'd be able to survive a few hours at the airport.

Stephanie closed her book and jogged into the front hall. She pulled the door open and had to jump back, grinning as a hand rapped on open air. The man on the stoop stepped back surprise, blinking behind large glasses and running a hand over his graying hair. "Oh geez, uh—sorry, sweetheart."

Stephanie surged forward, pulling him into a hug and pressing her face into his leather jacket. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Yeah, hi," he chuckled, but hurriedly cleared his throat as she pulled him inside. "Wait, no. No, no, no—no buttering me up with 'Daddy.' You are in big trouble, young lady. Big trouble."

"Dad—…"

"B-I-G, big trouble. Where is—uh—where's your mother?"

"Avoiding you," Stephanie said. She brushed past him, heading to the kitchen to grab a water bottle while he paused on the doormat.

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"What are you doing here so early?"

"Well, I had to uh, make sure you remembered to schedule in time for the huge lecture I'm about to give you."

"Sounds about right." She walked back into the room just in time to see the grudging smile that crossed his face. "If it helps, I missed you, Dad."

"Yeah. Yeah, I missed you too, kiddo."

The light clunking noise on the stairs made the pair of them look up, just as Stephanie's mother appeared on the landing. She held Stephanie's last bag in her left hand, her right on the bannister as she stared down at them coolly. "Well, thank you for deciding to show up. Thought today might slip your mind between all the book signings and movie deals and whatever else they're throwing at your feet these days."

"Margaret," he greeted, dipping his head with a wry smile.

She returned the gesture and headed down to the first floor. "Ian. Your daughter and I were just talking about you. Stephanie's reading your book. Again."

"Well, if there was ever a time to talk about my book…"

"Actually it was more a discussion of your general narcissism and attitude towards life."

"Well with you, it always is," he replied, straightening his glasses with a pained smile.

Stephanie stepped between them, holding a hand up to each. "Mom, Dad. Please. Can't we all get along for a few hours until I get out of here? Five hours as a family. That's all I'm asking."

There was a standoff moment of silence, each adult staring the other down and daring them to cave first. It was hard to tell who was defeated. Ian gave her his best smile, and Margaret scoffed as she continued down the steps. "Well, you can start by making yourself useful. Take this out to the car." She pushed the suitcase into his chest with enough force to make him step back, and was flurrying off into the next room before he could recover.

"You know, she's very good at making me regret coming to see you. All—All attitude," he said, bristling as he readjusted his grip on the bag.

Stephanie slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and smiled. "Complain all you want, but that's why you married her."

"Yes, well—uh—please don't make my mistakes."

She patted him heavily on the shoulder as they walked toward the door, but didn't argue.

It didn't take them long to load all of Stephanie's belongings into the car. It was only a few bags for now—two suitcases, her duffel and her backpack. At her father's somewhat snide comment about the surprisingly light packing, she reminded him that she wasn't in college anymore. She knew what she needed to survive, and wasn't a fan of over-packing, or of the airline's ridiculous baggage prices for that matter. Anything else she needed would be shipped in boxes, but she could survive on a suitcase full of clothes and some notebooks. Her father had quirked an eyebrow at the word "survive," walking around the car and grumbling about how she'd need several bombs and a lot more common sense if she really wanted to survive. Stephanie bit back her comment about that not going over well with airport security.

They ended up climbing into one car, Margaret behind the wheel and Ian bouncing his leg on the passenger side. Stephanie's eyes flicked between them from the backseat, surrounded by her luggage. She wondered briefly if they simply enjoyed torturing themselves or if this was supposed to be part of their plan—to break down her resolve by making her feel like a kid again so she would listen to her parents' orders. She hoped they knew better than that. Her mother had been trying to convince her to stay for months, but her mind was made up. She was an adult, and she would make her own decisions. No matter how much her parents hated it.

Stephanie was only able to escape her parent's judgmental glances when they walked into the airport. She quickly maneuvered her way through the crowd, getting onto the baggage line alone before they could protest. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she enjoyed the deep breath of relief. It felt a little odd to consider this a moment of piece—on line amidst a bunch of pushy strangers waiting to go on vacation. Passengers were subtly trying to elbow their way in front of each other. Children were bouncing up and down, crying loudly to their parents or dangerously waving their toys about. People hurriedly rearranged the contents of their bags, looking for items or trying to redistribute the weight. Parents sniped at each other while hurriedly tapping their feet. Well, that part she wasn't unfamiliar with.

She glanced over her shoulder, looking toward the window where her mother and father were standing waiting for her. They were talking quietly, infinitely more calm now that their daughter wasn't visibly watching them. Stephanie saw her father laugh and her mother roll her eyes, making her smile. It was good to know that they could still get along when the situation called for it. They were just too stubborn to agree most of the time. If there was one thing that they could agree on, it was that they didn't want her to get on that plane. That was some comfort after all the scolding she'd gotten.

Her parents returned to their sulks and pursed lips the moment she returned to them, and she had to drag them off through the rest of the airport. Dining options were limited on this side of security, but even having a best selling author as a father wasn't going to get her parents through security without boarding passes. They settled for some nondescript sandwiches, huddling into a booth in the corner where they could eat undisturbed. At least, Stephanie was eating. Her mother was picking at her own sandwich as best as she could with all the tension, while her father was staring at her steadily from across the table. He clearly wasn't going to bother pretending he was interested in his food.

Stephanie pretended to miss the way her mother elbowed her ex-husband in the ribs, glaring at him and jerking her head across the table. The man sighed, habitually fixing his glasses and clearing his throat. "So, your sister—uh, Brianne—she says hello. She wanted to come, but she was saying something about a baby shower..."

"A baby shower?" Stephanie asked, eyebrows quickly rising up her forehead. "She's not—..."

"No! No, oh God, no. Some friend of hers from college. Which—Which you'd know if you'd bother to pick up the phone once in a while. Or open emails or Facebook or whatever you do these days."

Stephanie did her best to ignore the jab. She knew her frequent radio silence frustrated her parents to no end, and it was something she'd tried to work on in the past. Ultimately though, she was just terrible at keeping in touch with people. If her parents hadn't been as addicted to Facebook as they refused to admit they were, she might not even know where her half-sisters were currently living.

She kept her eyes locked on her drink as she fiddled with the straw. "And uh, Kelly? Did she say anything to you about...anything...?"

Her parents shared a look, and Stephanie's heart dropped before her father even open his mouth. "Uh, no. She...wasn't around when I left..."

"Not around like out with friends, or not around like she locked herself in her room when she realized you were getting ready to come see me?"

"That. That second one's probably...about right."

"She'll come around, sweetheart," Stephanie's mother said, patting the hand that had gone limp around her soda. "She just doesn't want to think about you leaving."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it's the 'where' she has a problem with," Ian grumbled, earning himself a pointed glare from his ex-wife. "What? Can you blame her? Everything she went through, everything this—this family went through and then Stephanie turns around and essentially sells her soul to…"

"How's Sarah?" his daughter asked abruptly.

Stephanie repressed a smile as he huffed and rolled his shoulders. Sarah was his current wife, who he'd married a few years after what he referred to as the "San Fiasco." It was when he'd really started to clean up his act as a father—calling more often and visiting more frequently. Sarah had been good for him. She just also happened to be one of the only people in the family who hadn't threatened to skin Stephanie when she found out about her trip.

"Good. She's uh—She's good," her father replied. His voice was almost completely casual, and he redirected his look to the bag he'd been carrying with him. "Which actually reminds me, she uh—asked me to give you this. From her." He pulled out a thick book, the cover designed to look like printed scales. Raised white print spelled out the title, _Creatures of the Mesozoic_ , followed by a subtitle that went on for two or three lines. She grinned, pulling the book toward her as her mother scoffed.

"You didn't think it might be a good idea to give it to her at the house, Ian? She might not even have room in her carry on."

"Thanks, Dad. And tell Sarah, too. It'll go right next to the book Ellie mailed me on paleobotany. And yours, of course."

"Ellie?" he repeated.

"Oh, did you send her a thank you?" Margaret interrupted. "And tell me you remembered to send—…"

"Charlie's birthday card, yes. They got both of them and said thank you, Mom."

"Ellie?" Ian asked again. "Oh, that's—that's nice. That's great. And, uh how—how long has she known?"

Stephanie looked over at him, but he was carefully avoiding her gaze. Her shoulders sagged, and she folded her arms on the table in front of her. "Not before you did, Dad."

"Ah. Yes, well—that's a comfort. Absolutely."

"Dad..."

"Anyone else send you gifts? Anyone else that you may have told? Dr. Grant? Uh—The President? The Queen of England?"

"Excuse me! I only told you and Mom!"

"I was the one who called Ellie," her mother confessed, and Ian groaned as his head fell into his hands. "I wanted her opinion on the situation, and we agreed that—even if we don't particularly like it—if Stephanie still wanted to go, then..."

"Then we should lock her in her room until everything goes extinct again," he finished.

"Ian!"

"It's fine, Mom." Stephanie pushed the second half of her sandwich aside. Apparently that was as much as she would be permitted to eat at the moment. She leaned back in her seat and met her father's eyes with an equally steady expression. "Alright, Dad. Go ahead."

"I just—what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Eating."

"No—That's—That's not funny, Stephanie. That's not—I mean, have I taught you nothing? You're just going—going to ignore everything I've ever told you, every story you've heard? That's insane. This whole thing is insane! Before you even thought about _thinking_ about considering this you should have called me so I could…"

"Well maybe if you hadn't insisted on staying in Europe for that book tour…"

"Margaret, I'm not going to—…!"

"Guys," Stephanie interrupted, her voice surprisingly calm. "This isn't about you. It's not about what you taught me, or when you didn't show up. This is about me. It's my decision."

"Yes! Yes, and that's why it's everything about us," her father insisted. "Anie, we're your parents. We're supposed to help you, protect you, and there isn't going to be any helping or protecting going on as long as you're on that island!"

"I know that you don't think it's a good idea..."

"Oh no, think? Think? No. No, I _know_ it's not a good idea. Because it is an island full of dinosaurs, and eventually something is going to go wrong. I—I don't care how long they've been in business. Something always goes wrong, and dinosaurs always get out, and people always die."

"Dad...that's kind of my point."

"That's—That's your point?" he repeated, eyes doubling behind his glasses as he shook his head. "That's—Good. Good. So your point is that people will die. You want to go work on an island where you could die. Good, I'm—you know, I'm learning so much right now. Are you hearing this, Margaret? Are you hearing how she wants to die?"

"Dad, stop," Stephanie snapped. "I don't want to die. But I can't sit back and just wait for something to happen when I can do something to help."

"Sweetie, where is this getting lost in translation? You cannot help. It is going to happen. What do I keep telling you? Life will find..."

"Find a way, I know. But humans are alive too. And they will find a way to justify what they want, even if it's a park full of dinosaurs, and even if countless people have died trying to make that park a reality. The park isn't going to close just because it's a bad idea. The best we can do is try and control the damage. And I can do that."

Her father stared at her, his eyes squinted into slits behind the lenses of his glasses. Even under the unrelenting scrutiny, Stephanie didn't budge. Most of her family, her father included, acted as though taking the position at the park was the equivalent of going to the dark side. Her sister Kelly hadn't spoken to her in months because, as far as she was concerned, Stephanie was actively trying to make sure the park stayed open, that the nightmare her sister had lived through would remain a reality. But that wasn't the reason that she'd taken the job. She didn't think the park should be open at all. But it was, and she would not sit by and wait for someone to die so the park could close and reopen in another year or two. If Jurassic World was going to exist, she would have to make sure it wasn't completely incompetent.

Ian pursed his lips, turning to look at Margaret in frustration and annoyance. "When did she start talking like this? When—When did she become such a good talker?"

"Don't look at me," she replied, a bittersweet smile inching its way over her lips. "She's your daughter. Where do you think she gets it?"

The man sighed, crossing his arms on the table and giving his daughter one last once-over. "You realize this is on you, right? Anything you make for them is gonna have—have _your_ name plastered all over it. The moment one of those animals gets out..."

"If I make it, those animals aren't getting out." Her father shot her a warning look, and she grinned. "When they get out, it won't be because of something I did. I know how serious this is. I learned from the best."

Ian snorted, slouching back in his seat. "Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere with a tyrannosaurus."

"I don't even know if I'll be near a tyrannosaurus, Dad. It's not like they'll put me in charge of everything in the park. Besides, I'm an engineer. I probably won't even spend that much time _on_ the island."

She gave him a pleading look, and the table fell into silence again. Her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking between his daughter and ex-wife, and finally down at the table. It was several seconds before he heaved a sigh, pulling his sandwich toward him in the ultimate gesture of defeat. "They better have just—absolutely incredible life insurance."

Stephanie relaxed, her spirits lifting almost as quickly as the corners of her mouth as her face split into a wide grin. She knew she didn't need her father's approval to accept the position the park was offering her. She was in her thirties now, beyond capable of making her own decisions an running her own life. Even if her father had started screaming in the middle of the airport, disowned her in front of a thousand innocent bystanders, she still would have kept her head high and marched onto the plane. But God, did his consent make that easier. For the first time in weeks, she was almost excited as she glanced at the clock on the wall. The countdown to her flight departure was no longer a bomb that would destroy the life she knew beyond repair. Now it was just that—a countdown to a plane that would take her to a new part of her life, one that would allow her to finally understand everything her family and friends had tried to explain to her growing up. Jurassic World might have been a dangerous, terrible idea, but it was an incredible opportunity for her career. And as far as terrible ideas went...it was a pretty cool one.

"Thanks, Dad," Stephanie said, nodding softly.

"Oh no don't—don't thank me," he scoffed, and waved a hand. "Thanking implies that I'm doing something that would allow you to go, to help you, when in reality I still think this is a terrible, awful idea, and I'm very worried. I'm very worried. But since you seem determined to go in spite of me—actually, even for the specific purpose _to_ spite me—then you—you don't leave me much of a choice. I'm just—just bracing myself for the inevitable."

"So you're saying she's stubborn," Margaret suggested, one meticulously shaped eyebrow arched in amusement. "Who would have thought?"

Ian grumbled as the two women tried to smother their chuckles, and glared at the sandwich he'd bought to humor them. "Well, I blame you entirely."

The rest of their lunch was much calmer, once the subject of employment had been dropped. Ian spoke mostly about the struggles of his book tour, his second in the past two years. Even though it had been eighteen years since the public had finally discovered the existence of Hammond's dinosaurs, people were still clawing to get a chance to meet the survivors of the original park. Dr. Sattler did her best to preserve her quiet life in the suburbs, while Dr. Grant enjoyed his safety on his digs in the middle of the desert. There'd been one or two incidents of super fans voyaging into the wilderness to find him, but for the most part, his work kept him far out of the public eye.

Dr. Malcolm happened to be on the other end of the spectrum. Perhaps it had something to do with his previously tarnished reputation—which InGen had all but destroyed after he broke his non-disclosure agreement—but he spent most of his time out in the world talking about his experiences. His involvement in the San Francisco incident had made him and overnight, if not somewhat reluctant, celebrity. The world realized that Ian Malcom had been right all along. Book sales went through the roof, and every talk show host in the world seemed to be trying to get him on their show.

It had been a hassle to handle. Stephanie could only remember not seeing or hearing from her father for several months. When she did see him, it was on the television, trying to explain what had happened to him and his acquaintances without giving into the media's glorification of the experience. But no one seemed to care about whether or not it was moral or dangerous to be playing with dinosaur DNA. They wanted to know how long he thought it would be before investors would get the park to open, whether or not he would ever returned to either of the islands that had almost taken his life, or how he would feel about a movie being made about his "adventures," featuring real dinosaurs once they'd been trained of course. Ultimately, it was a bittersweet resurgence. His fame meant that he'd be set for life, but it was a life full of people who were only interested in the image they'd created of him. He handled it with as much grace as he could—outwardly thriving on the attention, but coming home to gripe about the stubborn ignorance he was faced with. Stephanie could understand that. That was why, despite how much her mother griped about his 'holier than thou' attitude, she was proud of everything he'd done.

Now she just had to hope she could handle the park in a way that would make him proud, too.

As the clock hands inched closer to the time of departure, Stephanie and her parents made their way towards the edge of the security line. Margaret's jaw had gone stiff, tense with the effort of keeping a calm and confident face, and Ian began to fidget more frequently. They had no idea how long it would be before they saw their daughter—and that was if everything went according to plan and she survived.

Margaret tugged her daughter toward her, resting her chin on her shoulder and wrapping her arms around her torso. "Oh, are you sure you have to go?"

The hug was tight enough that Stephanie was sure she'd bruised her ribs, but she held her breath and her tongue until she could pull away. "Yes, Mom. Besides, I have a nice, first class seat and free alcohol waiting for me. Be a shame to let it go to waste."

"Alcohol, yes. That's exactly what you need going to an island full of prehistoric monsters," her father scoffed. His ex-wife gave him a pointed look, and he held up his hands. "I was actually being serious that time. You'd have to be drunk or crazy to go. Both. At least they're good enough to pay for it."

"And for her Mesozoic Special Pass," her mother added, brushing a piece of dark hair behind Stephanie's ear. "And all of her food, and future travel expenses, and her deluxe suite at the resort."

"Spare no expense," Stephanie quoted. She rolled her eyes, but kept smiling. She wasn't strong enough to look down on all the special bonuses they were throwing at her, even if they were essentially bribes.

"Well, it's definitely still Hammond's park. Pamper you before you get, uh...torn to pieces." This time he was met by two razor-sharp looks, which was enough to deflate his ego for the moment. "Okay, alright, I get it. Stop it with the death jokes. Fine. Live in denial. Come here." He pulled Stephanie into his chest, laying a soft kiss on the top of her head and holding her tightly. "I know how talented you are, Steph. So, if this is what you want to do, then you—you go do it. You keep those dinosaurs contained. Show 'em who's boss, just... Enjoy it while it's good, and get out of there before it's not."

Stephanie pressed her face against her father's leather jacket, squeezing gently and breathing in his cologne for the first and last time in what felt like years. "I'll be fine, Dad. Mom always reminds me, I'm my father's daughter."

"That's not usually supposed to be a compliment," Margaret quipped, en edge of laughter in her voice.

"Which reminds me." He pulled back to fumble through one of the bags he had been carrying. A moment later, he pulled out a dark bundle of fabric, which he shook quickly into the shape of a leather jacket. "I know it's hot in Central America, but you are a Malcom at heart and damn it, you will look the part." She laughed as he slipped the jacket onto her shoulders, tugging it straight and dusting off her shoulders. "There. There, now you're—you're ready. You're good to go. Go do...this..."

He quickly ducked his head and looked away as his words began to fail him, but Stephanie smiled. She rushed forward to give him another hug, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Dad. I love it, and I love you."

"Love you too, Anie."

"Please be safe," her mother begged, pulling her out of her father-daughter moment and into another hug—though one that felt less like she was trying to murder her. "I love you so much. And for God's sake, text me before you take off. And when you land."

"And when I get there, and when I get to my room, and when I see my first dinosaur, and when I see my first Jurassic World bathroom..."

"Oh hush. I know you can take care of yourself. I just don't want you to drop off the face of the Earth just because you're in Costa Rica."

"Am I free to go now?"

Her mother sighed, kissing her cheek one last time before she relinquished her. "Yes, yes. You're free to go. Go do an incredible job, sweetheart. I love you."

"Love you too, Mom," she said, taking her first few steps backwards as her parents trailed after her.

"And—hey—and no—no flirting, Stephanie. I mean it. Keep yours eyes on uh...the man-eating dinosaurs."

"God, I'm leaving now!"

Before anyone could think of something else that might changer her mind, Stephanie pushed her way onto the security line. She quickly lost herself in the jumble of people, distracting her mind with the process of finding her boarding pass and checking her pockets. She made it through without a problem, though she found she was already reluctant to remove her new leather jacket, even for the two minutes she needed to. She recollected her things, and had almost made it around the corner towards the terminals when she paused. She looked back at the crowded security area, filled with businessmen and families and students going abroad. She couldn't see through them. But somewhere on the other side of that mob, her parents were undoubtedly still rooted to the spot—not speaking, but just waiting until one of them had the courage to leave their daughter first.

Stephanie pulled out her phone, snapping a picture of herself with the security line in the background. She entered it into a message, listing both her mother and father's number even though she knew they'd be slightly annoyed at not receiving them separately.

 _"Don't worry. Still alive."_

She hurried along to find her plane, choosing a seat against the window. She looked out over the people who would be her fellow passengers, grinning at a small blonde boy who was attacking his sister with his plush T-rex. It was moments like this that made her pause to think about her decision, about the idea of the park as a whole. For years, Jurassic World had been open and making the wishes of little boys and girls come true by letting them see in person the creatures they saw in picture books. Even adults who'd been embarrassingly obsessed with dinosaurs when they were kids loved it. The point was to show the public something amazing, and remind them of their place in the universe—to make them feel infinitesimally small, but also remind them that they would always be a part of something much bigger and more incredible than they could imagine.

But that was the downside, wasn't it? The human race's part in the universe was small, and by bringing these animals back to life, they were making themselves smaller. They weren't assured their place at the top of the food chain just because they'd created the dinosaurs. Things would get out of hand. People would die. People already had. It was just hard to remember that when confronted with the smiling face of a child who wanted to ride a triceratops.

Stephanie realized quickly that, without her parents by her side, she was a lot less sure of her decision. When her father had been telling her she couldn't go, it was easy to defend her ideas. The park wouldn't go away, and she would be damned if she let someone die before she could try and help. But now it was just her and boarding runway. There was no one holding her back, and the decision was entirely up to her. She could get on the plane and try to organize an amusement park that would ultimately take someone's life. Or she could walk away right now—please her parents, assure that her own life would be safe, talk to her sister without being afraid that she hated her. But what would happen when people started dying? The park might close down, yes, but those people would still be dead. Even if she could tame the park for a while, someone else would just die instead. But wasn't it worth it to prolong that dream a little longer, so one more smiling child could see a dinosaur?

An announcement blared over the speaker, alerting the passengers to the fact that boarding would soon begin. Stephanie jumped slightly in her seat, oblivious to how much time had passed. In a matter of minutes, she'd been ushered onto the plane, shown to her very roomy seat, and locked inside the aircraft. She watched in trepidation as the California landscape rolled by, and found herself reaching for one of the small bottles of wine that had been placed in front of her. There was no point worrying about it now. She was already on her way to Jurassic World.

* * *

 **A/N: I can't believe I let myself do this. I feel like such dinosaur-loving trash. Ultimately, Jurassic World reduced me to my five-year-old, dinosaur-loving self, and I haven't shut up about the movie since it came out. Also, Chris Pratt, so you know.**

 **I'm not sure how frequently this will be updated or where exactly I'm going with it, but I figured I'd give it a shot, right? Thanks for putting up with my incessant rambling and my too-frantic-to-stay-in-one-fandom brain.**

 **-Brittney**


	2. Chapter 2

Stephanie was exceedingly grateful that the ferry to Isla Nublar left directly from Santa Juanmaría Airport. Mostly because it meant she didn't have any access to her luggage in the short layover she had between the transfer in transportation. Had she been reunited with her suitcase, the temptation to change might have been too strong to resist. The heat in Central America was unbearable, and she was just about willing to kill for her favorite pair of cut offs and a tank top. But that would be unprofessional. If she was going to meet the head of the Masrani Corporation, the least she could do was look like the right woman for the job. This way, if she came to her senses and decided to decline employment, they could feel that much worse about themselves as a company.

She was already probably pushing it, she mused as she sat fanning herself inside the enclosed deck of the ferry. Her work blouse was nice, as were her dress pants, but they didn't exactly make up for the combat boots and leather jacket. She refused to get caught on an island of dinosaurs, where the difference between flats and heels was congruent with the difference between life and death. And as for the jacket...well, her parents had said it, hadn't they? She was a Malcom, and she was just too damn stubborn to take it off. Still, she watched the tourists around her with a twinge of jealousy—the men in ridiculously vibrant Hawaiian shirts, and girls in short sundresses. Not the most practical if it came down to running for their lives, but they probably felt a lot better than she did on the crowded boat.

The speakers around the ship blared to life, bringing a swell of music, and then the smooth, capitalist voice of the captain. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We are now approaching the famous Isla Nulbar, home to Jurassic World. We'll be getting our first look at the island any second now, so head out to the bow now, you'll be sure to get an amazing view. Parents, keep an eye on your children, and children, please keep an eye on your parents. Our Plesiosaurus Ferry will be docking in about twenty minutes."

Stephanie decided not to move from her seat at the bar while the crowds pushed for the doors. If they'd just made the announcement, the island was probably still a speck in the distance. It would be a while before there was anything worth seeing. She'd wait for the crowds to die down, everyone to stand outside until the sun beat them down and they gave in. Her finger pulled absentmindedly on the wrapper of her water bottle, and she looked down at the page of her father's book again.

 _"The island was beautiful, of course, as so many deadly things are. The lush green trees and colossal rock erupted from the mass of blue water, and every one of us felt relieved to see something that wasn't ocean after such a long time in the helicopter. An immediate form of Stockholm Syndrome—to be relieved in the presence of your captor in order to escape the monotony of your previous life. But the new captor would be so much worse than anything we could imagine. Death and teeth sat poised and ready, hidden under the beautiful canopy of trees and flowers that hadn't graced the plant for over sixty-five million years."_

When Stephanie finally edged her way to the railing of the boat, she felt the rare thrill of seeing words on a page come to life. The island was just as her father had described it, unchanged by more than ten years of free-roaming dinosaurs, and barely altered in the last eight years of human development. From the ferry, the only thing she could see that was different was the boardwalk that had been erected along the coast of the island. It stretched out like some massive, prehistoric snake, curving around the inlets and jetties, teeming with bright colors of store fronts and tourists that only began to come into focus after another several minutes of watching. And when the ferry finally rounded the corner to the docks, she got her first in-person look at Jurassic World.

It honestly wasn't all that different from the picture on the brochure. There were about four times as many people, but he concept art for parks always made it seem like it wouldn't be that crowded. Brightly colored banners with dinosaur silhouettes waved against painfully blue skies, and an escalator lead from the end of the pathway towards the monorail. That would snake around over the park to the resort, presumably, and then make stops around the various attractions. She could just see the tip of the discovery lab over the tops of the trees, the same general shape the last one had been—to preserve "authenticity." She thought about the final showdown between the tyrannosaurus rex and the velociraptors that her father had written about, the one that had both scarred Dr. Sattler and Dr. Grant, and allowed them to escape. Suddenly, she felt the need to duck back inside the ferry.

Once the boat had docked, she was able to distract herself by battling her impulse to collect her luggage. Her suitcase was presumably stowed under the ship, and her bag had been similarly confiscated to save space on the public deck of the ship. The instructions the Masrani Corporation had sent her had been very clear—all she had to do was exit the vessel and meet the employee that had been sent to collect her. All of her belongings would be collected by staff and sent to her room to meet her whenever she retired for the day. It was all very boarding school, and she was having trouble swallowing the anxiety that her things might not have made the connection. But she'd been assured that the Jurassic staff was composed of only the most competent employees available. She would be well taken care of.

She lowered her dark sunglasses before she stepped out onto the gangplank, but still winced as the sun beat down on her. The stragglers of the crowd jostled her as they rushed down the plank, trying to catch up to their families or escape the fate of being caught behind slower pedestrians. She paused again, peering out over the crowd and trying to distinguish what direction she was even supposed to be headed in. Her hands wrung the strap of her purse, until her eyes finally landed on a small tablet whose screen was glaring in the sun. It tipped again, and a jumble of letters that resembled her name flashed over the screen. The woman holding the sign seemed to be looking for her in turn, and if her neat business suit was anything to go by, she was definitely one of the park employees. Her disturbingly neat red hair was aflame in the sunshine, making her easy to keep track up as Stephanie pushed her way through the mass of people milling around on the dock.

"Ms. Engel?" the woman asked as she approached, picking Stephanie right out of the crowd and marching toward her. She held out a hand, shaking her hand firmly with a thousand watt smile. "Hi, I'm Claire Dearing, Jurassic World's Park Operation Director and Manager. We're so glad you could make it."

"Uh, wow. Hi," Stephanie said tentatively, pushing her glasses onto her head even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. She glanced down at Claire's flawless nails, and then the stilettos on her feet. She immediately released her hand, and curled her own uneven nails under her palms. "Sorry, I just...I wasn't expecting to be picked up by someone so, er...important."

Claire blinked for a moment, and Stephanie was sure that her next smile was just a little more genuine. "Well, Mr. Masrani wants to make sure that you're very well taken care of. He's very excited to finally be meeting you. There's a lunch organized in the board room at two o'clock, and I need to stop by the control room to check the progress on paddock seven's new security installation. That should only take a few minutes, if Lowery actually managed to issue the right protocols this time..." Stephanie knew she wasn't even being spoken to any more, but she waited patiently until the woman across from her was able to rearrange her thoughts into the correct order. "I'm sorry, we're on a bit of a tight schedule. Shall we?"

Without waiting for an answer, Ms. Dearing strode off, much faster than Stephanie would have thought possible considering the height of her heels. She scurried for a moment to catch up, then lengthened her stride so she didn't have to struggle so much. "So, do you retrieve all the new employees off the boat, or just the ones who have parents who were almost eaten by your animals?"

The woman laughed lightly and shot her a tight smile. "No, I'm...not often asked to welcome guests. The odd celebrity, occasionally, but even our investors are usually brought to the control hub by our specialized assistants."

"Well, sorry I'm no Brad Pitt."

"We're happy to have you," Claire assured her shortly, pulling out her phone and beginning to tap away. "You've been highly recommended by your peers in the field, and your background makes you an ideal candidate for the job."

Stephanie pursed her lips at the careless phrase— _her_ _background_ —as if it had been her trapped on an island full of dinosaurs instead of her father and sister. But she held her tongue. She knew that coming to the island would mean facing truckloads of the kinds of people her father had been avoiding for the past twenty years, those who didn't understand what he'd gone through and wanted to capitalize on his experiences without a thought for his wellbeing. But as thoughtless and annoying as those people could be, she couldn't let them die from their mistakes. So she smiled.

"It's good to meet someone I'll be working with."

"We won't exactly be working together..."

"Well, of course, not really. Still, if I'm engineering the operations and you're...managing them, there's bound to be some overlap."

That made the other woman pause for a moment, and she looked up from her phone with the slightest bit of uncertainty. She swept it under another professional smile, but not before Stephanie had time to raise an eyebrow. "Actually, the...position Mr. Masrani is looking to fill isn't explicitly affiliated with the park. You won't be engineering display paddocks or attractions of any kind. More...security paddocks. If you accept the position, of course."

Her cell phone rang in her hand before she could explain any further. She excused herself with a slender finger and rushed into the call, still leading the way toward a company car that had the park's iconic tyrannosaurus silhouette painted onto the doors. Stephanie followed, trying her best to keep her nerves out of her walk. She had a feeling that Ms. Dearing wouldn't have told her any more than she had even if the phone hadn't gone off—either because she knew it was sensitive information, or because it was such sensitive information that she didn't actually know it. That made Stephanie uneasy. She'd only been on the island for maybe five minutes and there were already secrets being kept from her. But with the alternative being getting back onto the boat without her luggage and waiting an hour for the next departure, she didn't have much of a choice but to climb into the car and accompany Claire to the control hub.

The drive through the park was a lot less eventful than she was prepared for. Claire spent most of the time on her phone, arguing with some workers over the previously mentioned installments for paddock seven. Stephanie was left to stare out the window, but there wasn't much to see but thick foliage. They were taking back roads up to the control center, steering clear of any attractions that might have caught her attention. She'd almost given up hope of seeing anything, until they pulled out onto the side of a hill and the trees parted to give her a peak at the valley below.

She knew that it was going to be gorgeous. It had to be, for the amount of money the company had spent on it. But even in the stories she'd heard from her father, from Sarah, from Dr. Grant—the valley always seemed to be the part of the park that put people at ease. Just for a moment, even the smartest realists had to put a hold on their cynicism, and consider the fact that an amusement park full of dinosaurs might not be the worst idea after all. The sun beat down on the tall grass, reflected off the ripples in giant, clear lakes, and warmed the backs of the brachiosauruses as they lumbered along the edge of the tree line. She could see a flock of gallimimus racing around the other end of the field, jumping over fallen trees and darting around the huge, barely moving forms of triceratops napping in the afternoon. Against her will, her breath caught in her chest. It was held back by the growing sense of wonder, the awe she knew John Hammond had been trying to get everyone to feel. How could her parents want her to stay away from a sight like this? How could she have wanted to deprive others of this experience?

Just as the smile began stretching over her face, the sun glinted off something else racing across the field. It was essentially a giant hamster ball, rolling through the grass with two specks of passengers inside. The Gyrospheres, she remembered from the brochure, allowing patrons to get up close and personal with the creatures of the valley. She watched the pod approach a triceratops, coming dangerously close to running over its tail. The creature lifted its head, jaw opening in what Stephanie could only assume was a cry of protest, but didn't get up to chase the sphere away. She was probably used to being bombarded by tourists. That was her life.

Stephanie crossed her arms as the branch of a tree whipped the valley out of sight, and they receded back into the shadows of the jungle canopy. It wasn't just unsafe for the tourists. It was unfair to the animals the park had created.

Claire finally pulled their car off the road and through the doors of a large parking garage, every space filled with a clone vehicle identical to theirs. The blue and silver Jurassic World logo stared at her from all directions, plastered on both sides of every car, the same exact tyrannosaurus silhouette that had been used when her father first came to the island. She wondered briefly why they hadn't bothered changing it. After all the bad press and controversial discussions about Hammond's park, she would have thought the new park would be intent of differentiating themselves from its predecessor. Apparently, hiring a graphic designer for a new logo was not one of the precautions they were taking.

The two walked down the length of the garage, pausing for only a moment as Claire flashed her security badge at the scanner on the wall. The heavy looking doors in front of them slid apart with ease, and Stephanie was a bit surprised to find a normal office hall behind them. Besides the frames pictures of dinosaurs on the walls, and the occasional mention of a scientific name she could heard thrown around in conversations they passed, the place was completely ordinary. People were dressed in normal business clothes, popping in and out of poorly lit offices, coffee in hand as they discussed sales reps and filming new advertisements for television spots. Maybe it was because the park had always been such a sore subject for her family, something taboo, but some part of her had expected it to be a little more...sinister wasn't exactly the word, but glamorous wasn't quite it either. Perhaps dramatic.

She was also somewhat surprised to find that no one was sparing her a second glance. She felt both relieved and disappointed in a peculiar way. Some quiet, maybe vain part of her had wondered whether or not Masrani had been broadcasting that he'd finally hired the daughter of Ian Malcom, famous survivor of Jurassic Park and the man responsible for revealing Hammond's creations to the world. Stephanie had been worried she would be bombarded by excited employees who wanted to hear about her father's story. She was glad to escape the attention, obviously, but there was still that inexplicable grain of sadness that always accompanies situations where people are reminded they are not quite as important as they think they are.

"I'm sorry about glamour-less entrance," Claire apologized as Stephanie followed her into an elevator. "Mr. Masrani originally wanted you to enter with the rest of the patrons, experience the park and the discovery center before he got to meet you. Unfortunately, he has a very important meeting with one of his subcompanies later this afternoon, so we had to adjust the time table."

"Oh, that's fine," Stephanie said, glancing through the glass wall at her back as the elevator shot upwards."

"He should be meeting you in about twenty minutes. I'll try and keep this meeting short, but ACU is notoriously stubborn. That's—..."

"Asset Containment Unit, yeah," she replied. Her voice was noticeably stiffer as she glanced at the other woman, then to the elevator doors. "And that's good. They should be. They're the only ones standing between these things and the patrons."

"And several layers of highly sophisticated security technology, fences and concrete, Miss Engel."

"I'm just saying. Didn't stop them last time."

Claire's lips pressed into a thin smile, and quickly dropped the subject. Stephanie was new, a low man on the totem poll, but she was also a fairly respected low man on the totem poll apparently. She imagined Mr. Masrani wouldn't be too pleased with her or his other employees if she began her this-is-a-terrible-idea crusade barely twenty minutes after her arrival.

"Miss Engel, welcome to the control room."

 _Ah. Now this is more like it._

The control room certain had the flare that the lower levels of the building were missing. This was the dark room with high tech blue screens that lit all of the employees with an eerie cyan glow. This was the room that belonged at the head of the most controversial amusement park in modern existence, with workers that looked like they never saw the sun and needed to wipe their memories at the end of work every day so they couldn't leak the company's secrets. This is where all the drama was.

"Mr. Cruthers," Claire called, striding confidently to the center of the room. It was the equivalent of a captain at the wheel of her ship, in complete and total control over the chaos around her. "Please tell me that ACU is here for our consultation and that the installation is going smoothly."

The man to her left looked up, fixing his glasses and slouching back in his seat as he twirled to face her. "ACU is here for your consultation and the installation is going smoothly...mostly..."

"What did you do?"

"I may have...made a slight...error..."

"Of course. And how much is your 'slight error' going to set us back?"

"...Like...a week...?"

"Lowery!"

"I know! I'm sorry! I suck! I am the King of Suckage. But in my defense it was a _super_ tiny thing, and I already got yelled at by ACU and they're fixing it so...we're cool."

"He's right," the woman sitting on Claire's other side said sympathetically. "It was a pretty brutal lecture."

Claire rolled her eyes, with the air that this was something that had happened several times before. "Lowery, I mean it. The next time something like this happens…"

"Absolutely. You're right. Off with his head. Who are you?"

Stephanie pulled her eyes away from the large screen on the opposite wall, which was currently showing a breakdown of the approximate number of park goers occupying each attraction. It was a lot of people.

"This is Stephanie Engel," Claire offered, gesturing to her with that professional smile once more. "One of the top engineers in her field. Miss Engel, this is Vivian Krill and Lowery Cruthers, senior employees in charge of communications and incident control."

She was about to give her obligatory "nice to meet you" when Lowery nearly dropped his soda. "Woah, wait. Hold on. What? _You're_ Stephanie Engel?"

"Uh, yeah. That's me."

"Stephanie Engel like the daughter of Ian Malcom?" She pursed her lips and tipped her head in consent, and Lowery's jaw promptly dropped. "Oh my God that's—that's awesome. That's incredible. I—I'm almost done with your dad's book. Everyone gets a copy when we get hired—well, I mean I guess you wont since you live with the guy, but we're all like mandated by law to read it."

"They are not mandated by anything," Claire sighed, pulling out her phone again. "It's a complimentary gift for all employees."

"Well, yeah that's what they tell you. But there's a bonus if you read the book, so it's pretty plain workplace discrimination. We've all read it."

"Wow. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or…really creeped out."

Lowery grinned, snatching the book off his desk and flashing the familiar picture of her father at her. "I just got to the part where he talks about the parent T-Rexes and that whole thing in the trailer. I mean, that is just—that's insane. That's epic."

"Not if you ask my sister."

The sentence rang through the air like a gunshot. Each pair of eyes that watched her had widened, and suddenly darted away. Lowery opened and closed his mouth for several seconds before quickly shoving the book back onto his desk, hiding it under several handfuls of important-looking documents.

"Yeah, no that's—you're so right—terrible, I just…sorry…"

"Well, I have a meeting to get to," Claire said, her voice just slightly too bright. "Stephanie, I am so sorry—both on behalf of Mr. Cruthers, and for the confusion. This meeting is bound to run long, so I'll my assistant to come escort you to the boardroom. Vivian, do you know where Zara—…?"

"Already waiting for you in the Sommer Room."

"Great. Miss Engel, I will no doubt see you later, and Vivian, please try and keep Cruthers from talking." She stalked off after giving Lowery a sharp but still somewhat amused look, leaving Stephanie to the care of her employees.

"So," Vivian began with a kind smile, "are you here for like a trip, or are you joining the team?"

"Or are you here to shut us down?" Lowery asked. "I know I'm not great at it, but I really like my job."

"I'm not here to shut it down. I think this whole thing is ridiculous, don't get me wrong, but I'm not sure if it can be shut down. Not until things go horribly wrong. People are stubborn that way."

Lowery gave her an odd look. "You're not gonna like, start working here so you can sabotage us from the inside, right? Infiltrate the base and tip the scales to get the disaster over with and close the park?"

"I'm not willing to sacrifice people to get rid of the park," Stephanie said, giving him a steely look. "I think that eventually, yeah, someone's going to die and for a couple months the world will remember that this was a terrible idea. But I'm here because I'm trying to make sure it doesn't happen any time soon."

"I think that's really great that you want to protect people," Vivian said firmly, before Lowery could open his mouth again. "Do you know where you're working yet?"

"No, not really. Dearing said it wouldn't be park affiliated, but I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

"Fringe project," Lowery said knowingly, though Stephanie doubted he knew anything at all. "Yo, maybe you're here to build a robot dinosaur. Robosaurus Rex. They've been talking about getting a new attraction."

"We suggested pygmy dinos," Vivian said. "Wouldn't that be so cute? And so much easier to take care of."

"Which reminds me!" There was a rustle as Lowery began rummaging through his bag, pulling out several handfuls of junk before reaching the plastic package he was looking for. He ripped it open with his teeth, and several small figurines fell into his hand. It wasn't until he started arranging them on his desk that Stephanie realized they were brightly colored plastic dinosaurs, the kind she'd played with when she was maybe four. "Welcome to the team, little dudes."

"Lowery, you know Claire's not gonna like that."

"Claire's not gonna be happy until the Neimongosaurus is speaking English and attending board meetings. She can handle these guys. Besides, they brighten the place up. It's always so doom and gloom in here. Look how happy they are!" He held one of the toys up to Vivian's face, pushing it at Stephanie when he didn't get a reaction. "See? Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

Lowery pouted at her, turning back to his mini-diorama. "You're grumpy."

"And you're a child."

"Miss Engel?" A very petite woman was striding toward the group, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. "I'm Zara, Ms. Dearing's personal assistant. I'm meant to take you to the boardroom for your meeting."

"Right. Well, Vivian, Lowery, nice meeting you."

"You too! Good luck!"

"Yeah, don't get eaten by Robotic-omimus."

Stephanie cocked an eyebrow, and Lowery hid his face before he caught her smirk. Then she turned on the heel of her boot and followed the assistant from the room.

It was a quiet walk down a very long hall. Much like Claire, Zara seemed to be absorbed in her phone. It didn't hinder her ability to dodge other people in the hallway, or turn when she needed to, which Stephanie quietly thought was rather impressive. She remembered for a moment that she was supposed to have called her parents when her plane landed, and when she got off the ferry. The thought was quickly chased out of her head when they arrived at the double doors of the board room. She noted dryly that the space over the door frame was decorated with another engraving of a tyrannosaurus skeleton, just like the one that had been placed over the doors of the original discovery center. Cute.

"Mr. Masrani's helicopter is due to land in about ten minutes time. He'll be with you promptly. Please make yourself comfortable, and don't hesitate to call should you need anything." Zara handed her a pristine business card, and was halfway down the hall before Stephanie had finished reading it.

The room inside was nothing out of the ordinary. A long table, high-backed chairs, a few tropical ferns to distract people in meetings that dragged on for hours. Stephanie wandered over to the opposite wall, a solid barrier of glass between her and the outside world. She could still see a peek of the blue ocean water over the trees, which rustled in the breeze. She'd be the first to admit that it was beautiful. If she was going to bite the bullet, it wasn't a bad last sight to see.

It was closer to twenty minutes before the boardroom doors opened again, thrown open by a tall Indian man in a bright green button down. "Ah, Stephanie! I apologize for the delay. I'll have to get my own pilot license one of these days. These so-called professionals are far too slow for my liking."

"It's not a problem. Mr. Masrani, I presume?"

"Oh, Simon, please. I feel as though I know you better than that. It's a pleasure, Miss Engel." He shook her hand enthusiastically, hardly looking away from her when he called back to the man who had followed him into the room. "Andrew, go tell Monsieur Sauveterre that we are ready for lunch. We'll be eating out on the balcony. I hope you don't mind. This room is always so stuffy. Too many businessmen. Better to enjoy the beautiful sun."

Stephanie held her groan in with a polite smile. There was nothing she wanted less than to go outside at that moment. The boardroom may have been stiff and formal, but at least it was air conditioned. Nevertheless, she followed Mr. Masrani out to the balcony, where a small table had been set up for them. She took the seat across from him, completely motionless as he leaned forward on his elbows to scrutinize her.

"So, Miss Engel. Tell me about yourself."

She poured a glass of water, something she was thankful had already been provided in a pitcher. Only after several sips and seconds did she match his gaze again. "I'm not really someone who likes to beat around the bush."

He watched her for a moment before chuckling and leaning back in his chair. "Straight to business then. I appreciate that."

"I know you've had people researching me before this. You probably know more about me than I could cover over lunch anyway. So what would you really like to know, Mr. Masrani?"

"Simon," he repeated, with a somewhat scolding look. "Nothing that would surprise you. I'd like to know why you're here."

"I'm here to design an extra layer of security between the park patrons and your frankly lethal attractions. That is the job description, isn't it?"

"But why now? Last time my company offered you a position, you declined. Quite energetically, if I remember correctly."

"Simon, I'm very sorry about..."

"No, no. There's no need to apologize," he said, waving her off as he poured his own drink. "You're a spirited girl. It's part of the reason I wanted to hire you in the first place. And while Mr. Withers might not have appreciated your right hook at the time, it made him very popular in his office when the staff found out."

Stephanie pressed her lips into a tight smile. "He was persistent. And I had already declined several times."

"Which is why it is so curious to me that you are here now. What's changed your mind?"

Stephanie's gaze dropped to the tablecloth. Her fingers idly traced a pattern on the side of her glass, which was already dripping with sweat in the hot afternoon sun. Masrani didn't rush her, but he watched her closely as her nails tapped on the table. It was impossible to tell whether she was nervous or simply lost in thought.

"The petting zoo," she said finally.

Masrani laughed. "The zoo? I assure you, Miss Engel, you'd get a much better experience just buying a ticket." He expected her to smile for some reason, but she didn't.

"No, not to see it. There was an incident a while back. One of the triceratops infants managed to escape its paddock. I don't know how anyone missed it, but it managed to make it all the way to the nearest concession area. Knocked over a few picnic tables, snapped at a few kids, but no one got seriously hurt. Just a couple of bruises and sprains."

"Yes. Yes, I remember that. But that must have been several years ago, by now."

"I know it doesn't sound like it makes much sense," she allowed, shaking her head at the table's centerpiece of greens. "But it's been...eating at me, I guess. When they covered it on the news—it was like it was nothing. It was a fluff piece about the smart baby dinosaur, as if a lemur had broken out of the city zoo. That's how harmless they wanted it to seem, or worse, that's how harmless they thought it was. Either way, that was went I started to realize that it didn't really matter if the park was a bad idea or not. It was already there, it's already here, and when there was a security breach people hardly batted an eye. So I started thinking, what if it wasn't a baby next time? What if it wasn't a herbivore? What if it killed someone? And... I don't know. I guess I started wondering what I'd feel like when that finally happened, and I'd refused to try and help because I didn't want the park to exist in the first place. All the what-ifs would kill me. So, I guess I'm here cause I'm being more realistic. The public isn't going to come to its senses and shut the park down because of potential danger. And I'm not comfortable letting the idiots run into the jaws of death without at least trying to put a barrier between them...literally..."

"That's very noble," Mr. Masrani said after a long pause.

Stephanie snorted slurping her water with a much less somber air. "No, it's not. Noble would be me taking the job because I want people to live their dream before the park has to close. I just don't want to live with the guilt."

"Loosely compassionate, then." He winked, and was instantly distracted by the arrival of several men carrying their food. "Ah, lunch! At last. Thank you, gentlemen. What is it, Miss Engel?"

Stephanie was smirking down at her plate, which had a delicious looking slice of salmon atop a pile of greens and vegetables. "Sorry. I guess I was expecting soup in a bowl that looked like a Dryptosaurus egg. Stegosaurus ribs, something like that."

The man laughed heartily, grabbing a roll from the basket and wagging a finger at her. "That's clever! I love it. Specialty editions to our resort dining menu. Perhaps I should have you working in hospitality instead of engineering."

"You still haven't mentioned what exactly I will be building. Miss Dearing mentioned that it wasn't technically park affiliated. I'm not entirely certain what else that would leave."

A brief look amid apprehension crossed over his face, but she did not comment. She simply raised an eyebrow as he cleared his throat and laughed again. "Of course, that's what this luncheon is meant to be about. But if you don't mind, I'd like to eat a bit first. I have yet another stock meeting this evening, and while I can certainly direct someone to fill in the details of your employment, I'm afraid I can't do the same for my stomach. Shall we?"

Technically it'd been a question. But the excessive attention Masrani was directing toward his meal said otherwise. Still, Stephanie decided not to raise the red flag. She simply tucked iron her back pocket to remember later in their conversation.

She endured several minutes of small talk, everything she'd been hoping to skip at the beginning of the meal. Yes, she grew up with her mother. When she was young they had a dog named Rex. She played soccer and sang in choir and joined mathletes. She'd been accepted to university with a hefty scholarship, despite having plenty of money. She studied for degrees in structural and later mechanical engineering. She'd begun working with an architecture professor who'd gotten her a job, and then...

"Yes, yes," Masrani interrupted, waving her story away. "I'm well aware of your outstanding resume. I'm not interested in hearing about the other buildings you've designed and so on. Tell me about your paleontology degree."

"My minor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "It doesn't amount to much in the field. Mostly I just applied for it because I could. It was just a bunch of classes I took so I could keep up with talk around the dinner table. Every time I visited Dad I was either listening to his stories or talking to Sarah, even visiting Aubrey and Tim. And even if I was at home, my mother's good friends with Dr. Sattler. Everyone in my life was talking about discoveries, about the park. I wanted to understand them."

Mr. Masrani leaned forward, brandishing a finger again. "See, now that is why I want to hire you, Miss Engel."

"Because I'm a legacy child?" she asked dryly.

"Curiosity! A desire to understand—something that's far rarer in our world than you might think."

"You realize I meant understand conversations, right? I'm not revving to get inside a dino brain. In fact, I'm not planning on being anywhere near one."

"Ah, but caution doesn't negate curiosity."

There was something in his tone that pricked at her, something that was pretending to be wise experience. Stephanie narrowed her eyes. "I still have the same conditions I did when we last spoke, Mr. Masrani. I'm not prepared to accept long term accommodation on Isla Nublar. I won't be any closer to these creatures than I have to be."

"Of course, of course, Miss Engel. I'm fully prepared to provide for housing wherever you see fit. I didn't intend to suggest otherwise."

"And what exactly did you intend to suggest?"

"Merely that you have a very interesting mind. Exactly the kind I'm looking for. I appreciate your caution. Need it, even. That's the problem with creating a park meant to instill wonder in its guests, you see. It's all too easy for the staff to get caught up as well. Businessmen are focused on what the public wants, scientists focused on the possibilities they could create, and everyone amazed that this park is a reality. There need to be people who see these animals as a threat, unquestionably. I need people who think the worst of them, to ensure that the worst of them never comes to light."

"That might be the most sensible thing you've said all afternoon, Simon."

"I'm not unreasonable, Miss Engel. I prefer to think the best of people, and the best of my creatures. But that doesn't mean your point of view doesn't have its merits and advantages. Preparing for the worst is the best way to keep the park open."

"Except you don't want me to work for the park," Stephanie said coolly, and pushed the remnants of her food away. "So what exactly are you asking me to do?"

Masrani rested his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together. "One of my companies is developing a research program to...observe some of the animals. They'll be studied from birth, and they'll need their paddocks to be redeveloped as they grow, to accommodate their size and the researchers needs and security. Most of the employees are to be picked by the team they're forming, but I've insisted on personally choosing key personnel. I want to make sure this project is done right."

"Okay. Is this a behavioral study of several species, historical consideration of one? I hate to tell you, but I doubt your animals are pure enough for their behavior to hold much ground in the scientific community. Jurassic World's altered so much in the name of capitalism that I doubt they can be considered real."

"Which is why it's imperative we do our own research. We cannot rely on the studies of bones and guesswork when the creatures we have here are so alive and unique. We must learn about them for ourselves."

"What is it you're planning on learning?"

"Oh simple things, simple. Monitoring their social behaviors, assessing their intelligence, gauging the possibility of emotional response and so on. I want to make sure that we take care of them in optimal conditions."

"Yes, but learn about—...?"

"Of course, the facility won't be open to the public, mind you. No, the paddock will be removed from the park for security. Also, of course, for ideal testing conditions. If we're to observe the animals in their natural environment, we can't have our tourists knocking on the glass. Testing responses to stimuli is much further down the line, I imagine, not for several years at the very—..."

"Mr. Masrani." Stephanie's voice was hard as she stared at the man across from her, her gaze as strong as her stomach was unsteady. "What sort of creatures are you looking to study?"

The man reluctantly closed his mouth. It was only after several seconds that he responded, in a would-be-casual tone, "Velociraptors, Miss Engel."

Stephanie blinked.

"Miss Engel, I know that—..."

"No." Stephanie pushed her chair away from the table, rising to her feet. "No, absolutely not."

"Stephanie, please..."

"You people don't learn, do you? You know how to contain them a little more, fine. Maybe no one's died yet, but you don't understand why you can't do this in the first place! You know how many times I've heard horror stories about this park? About raptors? And you're trying to domesticate them. You don't get it."

"You're right. We don't understand them. But we're trying to. We know these creatures are intelligent, that they have a social order. We simply want to assess how far that..."

"No. No, these animals, these things _are_ not anything. They cannot be anything because right now, they don't exist. You don't have them here. You're not trying to understand something that's already part of your world. You're having people design a ferocious, killing monster because you want a new play toy."

If Masrani was offended, he didn't voice it. He sat quietly at the table, not even watching as Stephanie paced the balcony. Clearly this had been the cause of his hesitation. He'd been prepared for her outburst, her outrage. It only made her more upset. He'd known how much she would oppose, but he'd still go through with it. He'd still asked her to help.

"This is a nightmare," she laughed, hands clasped under her chin. "This is—This is hell. You can't do this."

"Not to sound terribly cliche, Miss Engel, but we already have." She glared at him, and he pushed himself from his chair, wandering over to her with a respectively cautious pace. "You told me you came to this park to help, yes?"

"To stop ignorant tourists from being eaten, not breed raptors."

"So if that person who dies is a scientist, with a spouse, little ones at home. That is alright with you?" She didn't reply. Masrani walked past her with a knowing look, and leaned his elbows on the balcony, looking out over the trees. "The way I see it, Miss Engel, your position hasn't changed. This program will continue, with or without your assistance. InGen begins its meetings in just a few weeks."

"InGen?" She snorted and leaned on the wall next to him. "Typical."

"I'm aware of your family's history with the company," he granted with a small nod. "It's part of the reason I wanted you for the position. Someone needs to ensure that whatever it is they are doing, it is done right. By the book, and with appropriate safety precautions. I believe if there is someone inventive enough to keep these creatures contained, it's you Miss Engel."

"You don't trust them," Stephanie observed, casting him a sideward look.

"I trust them as much as any man trusts his employees. InGen is one of many companies, and it's not always easy to maintain control. The man they're putting in charge—I don't know him personally. He's ex-military. Good with guns, commands, but most likely not animals. I doubt he understands the severity of the situation."

"Do you?"

The man turned to look at her once more, standing tall and straightening his shirt cuffs. "I have another meeting I need to attend. It's a shame to waste so much time inside arguing about legal proceedings on a beautiful day like this."

"Especially when the alternative is being outside and arguing with me."

Masrani chuckled. "I hope you'll consider the position, Stephanie. And if not, try to enjoy the park for a while. See if you can't find the joy that's kept us in operation all these years."

Stephanie chose not to respond, simply pursing her lips. She followed him back inside, abandoning the food to be collected by some unfortunate employee later on. The air conditioning inside was an instant and incredible relief. Her temper ebbed just the slightest without the sun beating down on her leather jacket. It wasn't enough to make her reconsider working with raptors for a living, but it was something.

"Mr. Masrani, Miss Engel, I trust lunch went well." Claire had suddenly appeared in the boardroom, professional smile ablaze as she waited by the door to the hall.

"Miss Dearing. Incredibly on time, as always," Masrani greeted with a nod.

"Well your next meeting is in about..."

"Oh no, there's no need to walk me to my meeting, Claire. I'm sure I can find my way to my own conference room. Why don't you take the afternoon off? Show Miss Engel around the park, see the sights, the sun."

"Oh." Claire's face went paler than Stephanie originally believed it could. "That's—That's a very kind offer, Mr. Masrani, but..."

"Nonsense! No one knows this park better than you. Enjoy yourselves. Miss Engel, you know where to reach me, should you change your mind."

The billionaire was gone before either woman could voice a complaint, concern, or goodbye. Alone in the boardroom, Stephanie could see the subtle way Claire rolled her shoulders so they stopped shaking, and how her hands briefly clenched at her sides. Nevertheless, her smile was the epitome of grace when she looked over, and there was even a light laugh. "Well, what a nice surprise! Um... It's probably best for us to migrate through the park from the shore towards the resort. Some of the feeding shows might have to wait for another day, though of course I could pull some strings if Vivian prints me a schedule. I can have a car..."

"Claire, it's okay. I'm sure you have about two hundred very important jobs to take care of. You don't need to add tour guide to the list."

"Oh! Oh no, no, it's no problem at all. I'll just ask Zara to reschedule some of my business calls and..."

"Claire," Stephanie said firmly, making the redhead pause. "I don't need you to give me a tour of the park. I do not want a tour of the park. Right now, all I want is to go to my hotel room, order some room service, and crash. If that's alright with you."

She hesitated, two sides of the professional coin spinning in the air—keep the guests happy or follow the direct order of her superior? After a few seconds nearly short-circuiting, she conceded. "Of course. Would you like me to escort you or...?"

"I can walk. Honestly, Claire. I can take care of myself. You have an important job. I understand."

The woman smiled, a genuine expression this time rather than the billboard grin from before. "Well...thank you, Stephanie. And of course, if you do need anything, you can contact me personally and I'll be sure to make the arrangements. The hotel staff should be leaving a folder of relevant paperwork and information in your room, but if you have any trouble finding it, this is my card." Much like Zara had earlier, Claire pulled the stiff square of paper out of thin air and handed it to Stephanie. "I hope you'll accept Mr. Masrani's offer. I'm sure I'll see you around."

"Captain," Stephanie dismissed with a small salute.

"Good afternoon, Miss Engel," Claire said with a smirk, and then excused herself back into the hall.

Stephanie let out a small breath of relief. Finally alone again. She could feel the pressure sliding from her shoulders, and she allowed herself to drop the poor air of professionalism she'd been struggling to maintain. She knew her words were bound to get her in trouble eventually, but for the moment, her comments seemed to be appreciated. Masrani had as told her that was snark about the dinosaurs was why he'd hired her. If she chose to accept the position, of course.

She could feel the opposing arguments preparing for battle on either side of her brain, the future migraine already forming in the middle. She quickly did her best to brush it away. It was going to be a long night of debating pros and deathly cons in her room. The fight was not allowed to begin until she'd read up on her options and felt properly informed. And probably had a very stiff drink.

One of the security guards loaned her his security pass for half a second to send the elevator down to the main floor, which connected to the public level. Stephanie somehow managed to be surprised at the number of people she saw when she exited and rounded the corner. For a few minutes, caught up in debates of morality and business, she'd forgotten that Jurassic World was actually an amusement park mobbed with people. At the moment, she was in the heart of the show laboratory. Children pressed their faces against the glass, looking at warming beds filled with eggs and gawking at the goggle-wearing scientists taking notes on them. It looked exactly like her father had described.

Normally, Stephanie might have paused to peer through the glass, to really get a look at the company she was dealing with. But she was too angry. She was furious with these strangers for creating more killing machines for the sake of doing so. The raptor eggs were probably on display at that very moment. She couldn't stand it. So she pushed her way through the crowd, perhaps a bit more forcefully than was necessary, and headed outside through the main hall of the discovery center.

The sunshine was just as relentless as it had been on the ferry, the heat even worse. Thankfully though, a sea breeze had picked up, making the humid air just bearable. She stuck to her plan to walk to the resort for a total of ten minutes. When she tripped over her third child and was bumped in the shoulder by a tourist in a hurry for the seventh time, she gave up. She was too tired for this. So she headed to the nearest monorail station, and made it to the hotel in about twenty minutes.

Apparently, the staff of the Hilton had been informed she was coming. The receptionist merely handed her a key card with another commercial smile, informing her that she'd already been logged into the system and could head up to her suite. Her bags and information packets would be waiting for her, and if she had any questions she shouldn't hesitate to phone down to the front desk. Apparently, the list of numbers for her to call needed to be longer than it already was.

The room was admittedly incredible. It was obviously part of the bribe for her to take the job. Stephanie could only imagine just how many celebrities had stayed in the same room, completely comfortable in the luxurious space. It was essentially its own small apartment. A living space with sleek couches and a television that must have been wider than the span of her entire body, a kitchen that would most likely make a decent set for any home cooking show, a full bathroom, a wall-to-wall window that looked out over the park, a walk in closet. She wondered briefly if they were letting her keep this room as accommodation when she returned to the island for meetings, or if this was just the hook. She had to assume it was the latter. She'd be kicked out by a visit from Johnny Depp eventually.

Stephanie walked into the bedroom, nearly fainting in relief when she saw her luggage waiting for her. She could have kissed her suitcase. Instead, she tore it apart, shedding the awkwardly mismatched work clothes for a large T-shirt. The leather jacket was hung ceremoniously on a hanger, the only article she had the attention span to take care of at the moment. Then she pulled her hair up into a knot on her head, slipped on her glasses, and turned her attention to the three or four thick folders that were sitting on the end of her bed. She dive bombed onto the mattress, humming in appreciation as she momentarily laid still on the soft sheets. It was several minutes before she found the will to move again, and she had to drag her body to an upright position, her back propped up against the pillows and the headboard.

She pulled the small box toward her first and dumped the contents onto the blanket: a temporary ID badge, her special park pass, a map of the park, a complimentary Jurassic World lanyard, and so on. Nothing that could immediately distract her from work anyway. And so she grabbed the first folder of papers, flipped to the first page, and began to read. The packet covered all of the research the park staff had completed before the death of the previous inhabiting raptors. As many family memories as the words brought up, she had to admit that it was interesting. However, the research slowly bled into legal paperwork for the new project—the terms and conditions and justifications against moral objections and compromises and emergency procedures and so on. It was dry stuff, but she read it carefully, scouring for loopholes or faults that might allow InGen a little too much leeway.

Stephanie read until her eyes felt like they might bleed. The summer sun was still above the horizon, but it had already marred the blue sky with smears of purple and orange. She squinted down at the next sentence and tried her best to concentrate. She understood the words "in the event of" and a little farther down "loss of life," but the words between were starting to become too muddled to comprehend. After trying for several more minutes, she groaned, shoving the folder away from her and collapsing sideways on the bed.

It was already seven o'clock. Stephanie pulled the hotel-focused folder toward her, grabbing the phone on the bedside table and plugging in a number from the directory.

"Jurassic Room Service! This is Marlene speaking. How can I help you today?"

"Hi, my name is Stephanie Engel, I'm in the Spinosaurus Special Suite? I was hoping I could..."

"Oh! Hi, Miss Engel! Your dinner should already be on its way up."

"Sorry...?"

"Mr. Masrani put in the order the afternoon with instructions to send it up to you around seven. If it's not there in five minutes, you can certainly ring down again."

"I...okay...?"

"Great! And remember to have a Tyranno-terrific day!"

Stephanie stared at the phone in her hand, but hardly had time to ponder the overly-cheery farewell before there was a knock on the door. She huffed, rolling out of bed and marching to the front door. It opened a little more violently than she intended, and the poor boy on the other side jumped in surprise.

"Uh—r-room service? Oh, um...I can come back...?"

Stephanie glanced down at her oversized t-shirt and shrugged, dragging the tray into her room. "Eh, I'm sure you've seen worse. Or you will. Just stay for a sec though? If this is a goddamn lobster, I'm sending you right back downstairs."

Thankfully, the platter did not contain a lobster. It did, however, have a very large, very delicious looking grilled cheese, with bacon peeking out under the toast. A toothpick with a T-Rex head held it together, and under a separate lid was a bowl of tomato soup—the container painted to look like a dinosaur egg. A small card was propped up in a special holder, which she quickly snatched up.

 _"To more creative ideas in the future. Simon Masrani."_

Stephanie wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or flip the trolley. "You're a smooth son of a bitch, Simon. I will give you that. Very smooth."

"Uh, there's also a bottle and some ice on the bottom?" the boy added. "I think it's like whiskey or something."

She pounced on the bottom rack, ripping away the decorative cloth to pull out the shiny amber bottle. Stephanie let out a low whistle. "Pappy Van Winkle. Well. Spare no expense."

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, I'm good. Just hold on a sec." She jogged out of the room, fishing her wallet out of her purse and pulling a few bills from it. It was going to be a considerate tip since she'd scared him, until she caught him eying her legs when she walked back out of her room. She held up the money, and narrowed her eyes before cutting the pile in half. "Don't gawk. It's rude. I'll leave the cart outside. Thanks, kid."

He left grumpy at best, though with a twinge of sheepishness that made her heart swell. She didn't want to think she could be bribed, but between the room, the food, the alcohol, and the power trip of shutting someone down, she was feeling pretty good. It helped that the food was to die for—not literally of course—and the whiskey, while a little high end for her taste, went down smooth.

She poured another glass when she'd finished her food and sat on her couch with the remaining folders. These were the ones that probably should have gone first. They covered the park's history, a brief report of incidents in the past, and of course, the specific responsibilities and benefits that would come with her job. Attend monthly meetings at InGen headquarters on the mainland of Puerto Rico, with supplemental meetings at the research location scheduled on an as needed basis. Thoroughly read and file update reports on "the assets," as the contract called them, and remain up to date on park developments. Design, repeatedly where necessary, both habitat and study conscious paddocks for the creatures, taking into account the most recent knowledge of their size, behavior, and intelligence, and any other precautions that appeared immediately vital. Maintain positive relations with developer and supply companies involved in the construction process and, when deemed necessary, be present for builds and development of paddocks. Employment focus may change when the assets' accelerated growth rate tapered, and requests for assistance on other projects may be issued. Regardless of her age or employment history, she was to be regarded as a senior employee and to be included in any discussions of research focus, structural issues, staff employment and relocation. A design team would only be organized on her own terms, and would be involved to the extent that she was comfortable. Jurassic World and the Masrani Corporation would cover expenses for all travel arrangements, housing accommodations both during meeting periods and for general living, and any dining or entertainment she took part in while in residence at Isla Nublar.

She swirled the remaining liquid in her glass, staring down at the blank space over her typeface name. The job was much more dangerous than she'd anticipated. With a park affiliated job, she probably could have spent all her time holed up in an apartment Masrani was paying for. Research had her reporting regularly to check on the researchers' progress, to see "the assets" first hand to consider while she designed their ever changing environment. And then there were "the assets" themselves. She'd been prepared to work for hulking herbivores, maybe a few of the carnivores. Hell, even with the rumors that Jurassic World's T-Rex was the same one featured in the early chapters of her father's book, she was willing to work with it. At least she knew how to potentially outsmart a T-Rex—don't fucking move. But raptors...that she hadn't been prepared for, might never be prepared for. Staying one step ahead of them would be tricky, let alone trying to train them. They were incredibly intelligent, probably more so than she knew.

But that was the point, she supposed. To find out just how smart the raptors were. It was essentially pointless and recklessly stupid. Anything they discovered couldn't be applied to real raptors, as they'd been so different, and with no Jurassic Park raptors currently in existence, the project didn't so much provide useful answers as create lethal problems. But did she disagree with the research program anymore than she disagreed with the park as a whole? Because Masrani had been right before. As far as she could explain, her goal hadn't changed. There was a project in motion that wouldn't be stopped by common sense. She had the power to try and protect the people involved in that project from needless harm. They were people that were probably more reckless than the average park goer, choosing to spend an extended amount of time around these animals instead of a casual visit. But then again, how different was she?

Stephanie downed the rest of her whiskey, her eyes scrunching up at the bite of the alcohol. Before she opened her eyes, she grabbed her pen and scrawled her signature. She was going to make sure she got a _very_ nice apartment.

* * *

 **A/N: Yay! So Stephanie finally knows her place at the park. You guys could probably see this coming cause you know about Owen, but still a nice surprise for Stephanie. Hope I captured a little bit of Ian in her "play toy" speech. Thank you all so much for your reviews. I'm really happy you guys enjoyed the first chapter, and thank you eternally to anyone who said anything about Ian. I was so nervous writing his voice, but he's so much fun to write. They're definitely be a few other points in the story where he crops up, cause I'm too damn excited to write him. Any way, thank you again, and I hop you enjoyed chapter 2!**

 **-Brittney**


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